Defined
by annie1994
Summary: Things in Suna go downhill as the dead are brought back to life, causing confusion as people try to figure out why this is happening. Ami and Gaara are not above the chaos, dragged in when Gaara's mother and uncle are brought back. (GaaraxOC, sequel to the Kazekage's Keeper- Rated M for subject matter)
1. Reincarnation

_Reincarnation;_

_Noun—The incarnation or embodiment of a soul in a new body after it has left the old one at physical death._

This was it.

Holed up in the basement of a decrepit, abandoned apartment building in the slums of Suna—Kiyoshi paid little mind to the fact that his fingertips were turning blue from the cold, that his breath was coming out in small puffs of steam—drifting up in the darkness of the room towards the ceiling.

Pale hands trembling, dirt caked under his fingernails, the man walked over to the shelf—hesitating as he decided who to bring back first. Gut instinct was to bring back his wife or his daughter, but that would bring too much suspicion.

That day would come soon though.

Picking up a small box gingerly, the man spoke softly—as if he was being listened in on right now. "You most definitely left early… didn't you Lady Karura? I felt very guilty for digging up your grave, but it was needed so I could use this technique—I hope you and your family can forgive me for this." Gently setting the box down on the table, opening the lid and transposing all of the contents— an skull, several strands of straw colored hair, and what he knew to be several bones from what had been the woman's left hand.

A wild fit of giggles erupted from the man's lips as he performed the Edo-Tensei, years of research and planning had all come to this point—tears of joy pricking his eye as he realized that he had in fact done it correctly, what had once been a pile of bones laying on the scroll was now the Kazekage's mother—fully in the flesh.

First instinct was to check if she was breathing, if she had a pulse, but as hand drifted through the air to put fingers on her neck—he remembered that this technique did not bring people back to life, just made their souls inhabit their bodies once more. To check her pulse would fruitless. A small chuckle at his own foolishness, Kiyoshi got to work dressing the woman in the cheap set of tan and white robes he had bought from the store.

They would be a bit too large for the woman, but at the very least she would not wake up in a strange place like the slums in the nude. Picking her up very gently after pulling his hood over his face, Kiyoshi carried her out of the building—making sure not to jostle her awake as he stepped outside into the night air.

It was good for him, he thought, that he had found this part of the slums to use. No one came to this part unless they were doing something horribly illegal, and if someone saw him here they would not rat him out. For simply being in this part of the village meant you were here to buy something you most certainly should not, or were committing a murder of sorts. No one in their right mind would incriminate themselves by saying they were here.

Setting the women down, Kiyoshi quickly jogged to an alleyway—peering behind a corner, watching as she woke up slowly and looked about in confusion.

It had worked.

Hurrying to his laboratory, Kiyoshi got to work. He would bring back the Kazekage's uncle next. Then those who had died in the war—or at least those whose bodies had been able to come back to the village were brought back. Panting gently after he had brought back five more people and placed them outside.

There was no way he could continue tonight, almost out of chakra it was all he could do to walk himself to his home. Passing through the entryway, he could not help but smile at the picture of him, his wife, and their daughter, that was hanging on the wall as he closed the door. His voice very soft as he reached out to gently touch the picture frame—a gentle, tired, smile growing on his face as brown eyes looked at the two people he missed the most in the world. "I'll bring you back soon. Akemi, Atsuko. I'll bring you back and we'll be a family again. Just wait a few more days—it will be alright."

* * *

"Yashamaru?"

Eyes opening in the darkness of the night at a voice he had not heard for years, violet irises surrounded by black sclera it took a few moments for the man to realize what was going on, swallowing thickly when he saw the concerned face of his older sister hovering above him. Bolting upright, the blonde man quickly hugged the woman he'd missed so much, hands tightly gripping the robe on her back as he clung to her tightly—tears burning his eyes as he tried not to cry. "Karura-! You're alive—" a small pause as he broke away just enough to look at their surroundings. Something was not right; this was most certainly not what he had remembered last. "I'm supposed to be dead… why am I back…?"

Lips in a thin line, Karura stayed silent as she thought about what could have happened before finally shaking her head. "I don't know… but we'll figure it out together, alright?" smiling at her brother brightly despite the situation and their surroundings, "We always figure it out Yashamaru."


	2. Influenza

**Influenza—Noun; **

**An acute, commonly epidemic disease, occurring in several forms, caused by numerous rapidly mutating viral strains and characterized by respiratory symptoms and general prostration. **

_Cool, pale hand resting gently atop the blonde woman's' forehead, Gaara frowned lightly—the man sitting on the edge of the bed his wife lay on. "Your fever still has not gone away Ami…" the twenty five year old Kazekage retracting his hand, laying it on his lap as he looked down at her in mild concern. She was supposed to be his guard while he left for the Kage Summit—though he had a feeling that she was not well enough to walk around the village without making herself ill enough to go to the hospital, a trip through the desert would be a horrible idea. While her fever was not life threatening to say the least, and she seemed to have a bad flu at the worst, traveling through the deserts of the Wind Country and surviving required being in top shape._

_Looking down at the blonde as she curled herself up under the covers—a soft groan escaping chapped lips as sore muscles strained to make her body move, the corners of Gaara's mouth tilted down into a frown. Sea foam green eyes watching as she shivered lightly, the man found himself half tempted to skip out on the summit to make sure that Ami was well tended to, though he had a sneaking suspicion he would never hear the end of it from the woman if he did so. _

_As much as he loved her, he had to admit that she was quite the nag at times. If she found out that he had skipped the Kage summit to take care of her, he would not hear the end of it for several months if he did so. _

_Sea-foam green eyes looking over to his former teacher as the older man stood in the doorway, Baki giving a small smile and nod—the taller man taking a few steps closer to his former pupil, hand resting on the shorter man's shoulder. "I'll look in on her while you, Kankuro, and Temari are away. Don't worry Gaara." A light pause as he gently squeezed the Kazekage's shoulder in an attempt to comfort the worried man "So just go, alright? She'll be fine. Ami's been sicker and come out the other side perfectly healthy."_

_A small nod at his teacher's words, Gaara placing a small kiss to his wife's temple "Alright. Thank you Baki. You are in good hands Ami—so get better." Chuckling lightly as Ami groaned in response, Gaara straightened up before directing another nod at his former teacher, "Thank you Baki." _

_The tall man watched as Gaara left the room, brown eyes trained on the white robes on his back before looking down at the blonde woman in bed, offering her a light smile before speaking softly. "We'll get you healthy soon Ami, don't worry." A small smile on his lips when she gave a small nod and another groan._

_She would be fine. _

Green eyes opening slowly, slender hands drifting to rub crust from them as Ami sat up in bed—chapped, pink lips turning into a scowl at the strange taste that was making itself known in her dry mouth.

Scratching her head for a few moments before slowly getting out of bed—the bottom of the blonde's feet hitting the cold tile of her bedroom, Ami glancing at the wall clock, wondering why her husband was not in bed with her at this early hour before remembering that he had left for… something important, she was fairly sure.

Her mind, at the moment, felt almost fuzzy—she was unable to quite put a word on it. Perhaps it was the fever, but she could not quite get herself to think clearly. Stumbling towards the dresser—hands resting on the top, tips of her fingers pressing into the wood a bit as she stared into her reflection. The woman frowned lightly as she looked at herself, dark circles and bags under her eyes, skin pallid, covered in a light, cold sweat.

Voice coming out of her lips hoarse, soft, and ragged, "I look like shit…" a small pause, feeling her stomach flip in her abdomen before she groaned and continued, "I _feel _like shit…"

About to make her way to the bathroom to take a shower— sweaty hand running through dirty hair when she heard a noise from downstairs, the woman stopping in the doorway between the bedroom and bathroom as she took pause to try and determine who was in her house, hearing two very distinct, muffled voices.

A man and a woman she was fairly sure?

The male voice did not sound anything at all like Baki—the jonin had a very distinct, rough, gravely voice. This new voice seemed softer, gentler…

Silently making her way to the nightstand, reaching into the drawer and taking out the dagger within—slender hand gripping the handle of it tightly as she crouched behind the dresser, out of sight from anyone who would walk into the room. Ami held her breath, doing her best to clear her foggy mind enough to think of a tactic as she heard someone walk up the stairs and towards the master bedroom—was it the man? The voice was slowly becoming more and more distinct.

Hearing the woman downstairs, muffled, feminine voice ringing out just enough that Ami knew that it was indeed the man coming towards her.

* * *

A light frown on the sandy haired woman's face as she watched her younger brother crouched in front of the door to their old home, Karura wrung her hands together as he began to pick the lock with an old hairpin he had found on the street — what if her husband, Kogane was no longer Kazekage? They would be breaking in. Teal eyes taking survey of all the buildings that had seemingly popped up out of nowhere since she could last remember—all the old landmarks that had seemed to change or be gone completely, Karura was fairly sure that quite some time had passed since she had died. "Yashamaru—I don't think we should be doing this. We could be trespassing."

"We knocked, no one answered. And I am certain that whoever is Kazekage now, if it is not Kogane, would understand why we did this once we explained it to them. Besides, this was the last place we both lived right? We may find out where Temari, Kankuro, and Gaara are." Giving his older sister a small smile as he opened the door, holding it open so she could walk in, "Don't be worried Karura, it's alright."

Stepping inside, the sandy blond man could not help but find himself a bit disappointed at how much had changed since he last remembered—furniture had been moved or replaced, the walls seemed to have been repainted… it was quite different than he remembered. Though, Yashamaru mused, Karura must have been more shocked than he was—she died six years before he did, and judging by the look of surprise on her face, he was right.

Gentle hand patting on his sister's shoulder, Yashamaru gave her a small, comforting smile, "You look around downstairs, alright? I'll go upstairs and see if I can find anything Karura." Walking up the stair's searching for any indication of his nieces and nephews living there, frowning at everything he found.

It was not as if he expected everything to stay the same, but he had not expected everything to change this much. A look in Kankuro's room found that it had been turned into what seemed like a guest bedroom—all things personal removed. Checking in on Temari's room, then his own old room—a small bedroom right next to the playroom that the Fourth Kazekage had kept Gaara confined in—he found that Temari's room had been depersonalized as well, while his seemed to be turned into a small study.

Stepping inside of his old bedroom, sandals padding softly on the tile floor, frown deepening ever so slightly as he looked at everything—a small desk with calligraphy brushes and paper where his bed had been, bookshelves of all sizes lining the wall. Blond man inspecting the bookshelves a bit closer, eyes narrowing in mild confusion as he realized every scroll or book on the shelves seemed to be about either demons, or fighting techniques of the Minamoto clan.

The man extracting a scroll from the bookshelf, taking a closer look at the extremely elaborate chakra seal that was on it—there was no way he would be able to open this, it seemed as if it was for those who were in the clan. Replacing the scroll, standing still as he wondered a bit why that surname seemed so familiar—gut instinct telling him that it had something to do with his nephew Gaara, though that did not make much sense as he thought about it more. A small shake of his head, assuming he would remember it later, Yashamaru left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Opening the door to Gaara's old playroom, eyes narrowing slightly—it had been made into a large bedroom. Taking a few more steps inside, he found himself even more confused. There was no way that this room was Gaara's. His youngest nephew was unable to sleep—if the redhead slept then Shukaku would be released.

Hand raising to run through his shoulder length hair, frowning softly as he scratched at his scalp a bit in confusion before letting out a sharp yelp as he was shoved violently against the wall—indigo eyes meeting fierce, bloodshot, green ones as a blonde woman held a dagger to his neck, blade pressed against his windpipe as she growled "Who are you, and why did you break into my home?"

Instinct from his experience in the ANBU kicking in Yashamaru pushed the woman away with ease, getting into an offensive stance as the blonde woman fell to floor—eyes narrowing before he launched himself at her, "You shouldn't attack without a clear plan." wrenching the dagger out of her hands as he pinned her to the floor.

* * *

Teal eyes rimmed with black sclera narrowed slightly as Karura walked around the lower level of the mansion, so much had changed! A light frown on her lips as she walked into the kitchen, remembering the times she had spent cooking with her young children—though, at Temari and Kankuro's age it tended to be her cooking and making sure that the two of them did not make too much of a mess.

A light sigh escaping from her lips, feeling a soft pang of longing for her children in her chest—Karura let the tips of her fingers trail gently over the countertop as she walked around, taking in every sight, pausing her walking as she noticed a picture frame situated on the counter. Slender hand picking up the metal frame, examining it closely, she could not help the smile spreading on her lips as she realized who was in it.

Black rimmed eyes, bright red hair, she may not have been there for more than a few minutes after she had given birth to him, but Karura knew very well that this was her youngest son Gaara. Though, the main reason behind her smile was what he was doing in the picture—kissing the cheek of some blonde woman in a wedding kimono, Gaara dressed in Kazekage robes. He was married—he was the Kazekage—both he and whoever his wife was, both looked so incredibly joyful in the picture.

It was all she wanted for him, and more.

Holding the picture close to her, Karura quickly made her way upstairs, intent on showing her younger brother the photo—hurrying up when she heard a large thump.

Woman bursting through the door of the room that she had heard the noise come from, shocked to find her brother crouching over the woman from the photograph, dagger in his hand, ready to strike. "Yashamaru! No!" rushing forward—picture and frame falling to the ground as she dropped it so she could grab her brother's hand and keeping her from stabbing the other woman. "That's Gaara's wife! Don't attack her!"

"Yashamaru?" looking at the man above her in confusion, Ami stared at him in confusion for a few moments before looking at the woman who had just burst in as the man slowly got off of her, dropping the knife onto the tile floor. Pale hands trembling just a bit as she pushed herself off of the floor, standing as best she could on her own. "You are… Yashamaru…?" seeing the man nod, Ami looked back to the woman, "Which makes you… Karura…"

Trembling hand running through bright blonde hair, not sure if the strange lightheaded feeling she was experiencing was because she had been shoved to the ground, because she was still sick with the flu, or because her husbands dead mother and dead uncle were standing in front of her.

Stumbling backwards until she was sitting on the bed, Ami rested her elbows on her knees holding her head in her hand as she tried to make sense of this situation before looking back up at the two before her in confusion, "Am I… hallucinating…?"

* * *

**A.N.: Sorry this is so late to be updated everyone! Life got a little hectic, but I'm back, and I'm going to try and update much more frequently! **


	3. Morgue

**Morgue—Noun**

**A place in which bodies are kept, especially the bodies of victims of violence or accidents, pending identification or burial. **

'_What I do,'_ Kiyoshi thought to himself, as he used a thin scalpel to delicately and precisely cut open the dead man in front of him, _'Is surely the purest way to celebrate life.' _ A very light pause as the black haired man let out a small chuckle that echoed throughout the morgue—realizing how strange that thought would have sounded to any other person.

To him however, it rang with a great deal of truth.

Surely, the occupation of being a mortician was not glamorous in the very least—but with the simple slice of his knife, he was able to find out the entire life story of the person before him, without even needing to speak to them once.

People lied.

People hid truths in shame, for fear of ridicule, in fear of harming their loved ones, people lied for more reasons than the pale man had both fingers and toes.

Organs though, organs, tendons, blood samples, muscle tissue, skin cells, these things never lied. He was able to find out who was a smoker. Who was a heavy drinker. Who abused drugs until their heart stopped mid-beat and who had never touched them once in their life.

What was a better way to celebrate life than that?

To find out for certain the way someone had lived—the way they had used their precious few days on the earth?

He could not think of one.

A long sigh as he looked at the young man before him, a shinobi of only seventeen—dead before his time.

Brow furrowing as brown eyes stared intently at the corpse in front of him, wondering how the parents were handling the loss of their child—a pain more horrific than anything else, that he knew all too well.

No parent should have to outlive their child.

It was a hell he would not wish on his worst enemy.

Another sigh, a smaller one, before the man spoke quietly to the boy before him.

"I will bring you back too. Just give me a few days—there are people who have been gone longer than you that need to come back first."

* * *

The look of suspicion on the other's face was a bit annoying, Yashamaru had to admit—though, he supposed that if he was seeing his spouse's dead mother and uncle come back to life, he would be a tad suspicious as well.

Though, the way the young woman's green eyes were narrowed in distrust, the amount of suspicion was a bit more than a tad.

"How—why—" a pause as the blonde groaned in frustration, slender hand running through dirty hair as the sick woman remembered that she probably needed a shower. That was not the biggest of her problems though. "Why are you two back? You're dead—you are dead—you died before I even came to Suna—"

A small smile on Karura's lips as she watched the other fret, able to understand—to an extent, her in laws had never come back to life—why the younger was so confused. "We aren't sure. I woke up in the slums, and I stumbled across Yashamaru. We don't know what happened, really." Teal eyes glancing to her younger brother, reaching out and gentle squeezing his forearm as she saw the mixed emotions on his face, before looking back at the new addition to her family "Are you really married to my little boy?"

Blinking in surprise before giving a slight nod at the question, not entirely sure how to act in this situation—or treat the people before her. Karura, she trusted well enough. The woman was a civilian, was from what Kankuro and Temari said—a devoted mother, and was the one who had been so adamant about protecting Gaara that the sand now defended him.

Yashamaru however, she was not sure if she could trust him. It had only been recently that Gaara had begun to start recovering from the man's betrayal and forgiving himself for killing him.

Coupled with the fact that the man had literally tried to murder Gaara—and was the catalyst that turned him into what was most certainly a psychopathic, blood lusting, near demonic, child for a little more than six years—not mentioning the fact that he had been the Fourth Kazekage's right hand man, and if there was one person in the world she did not trust, it was the late Kazekage.

Rubbing her temples, realizing that she was taking much too long to actually vocalize the answer to Karura's question, Ami gave a small nod before reaching out her hand to shake the woman's, "I am—we got married a few years ago. My name is Minamoto Ami, it is an honor to meet you ma'am."

Indigo eyes trained on the young woman, Yashamaru stayed silent as his sister shook Ami's hand, recalling just a few minutes ago the scrolls he had found in his old bedroom about sealing demons—remembering why the surname Minamoto seemed oh so familiar to the long dead man. "You're Gaara's keeper!" blinking as he realized just how loud he shouted that when he figured it out, blonde brow furrowed a bit in confusion and astonishment.

It had been long ago—oh so long ago that his sister had applied to have Gaara protected. To have someone come to Suna and grow up with him. To make sure he had a companion who would not only make sure he was not alone, but was safe, taught him how to control the demon within him.

Someone to take care of him.

Looking in mild amazement at the woman before him as she sat down on the bed—feeling significantly less annoyed at her now. After Karura's death it had been he who had handled the arrangements to get Gaara a keeper. To help select one that would work well with his nephew's personality—he could remember exchanging letters with Ami's father once she'd been chosen. Her father—Akio, he was fairly sure—went into length about the process of training keepers to be extremely protective of their charges.

It made more sense now, he supposed, that she attacked him.

A very small pause between Yashamaru's exclamation before Karura spoke softly, "You… are his keeper?" smile creeping slowly onto her lips once more, woman more happy than she thought possible to be able to meet whoever it was that kept her baby boy safe.

Teal eyes blinking as a thought approached her, smile faltering by a few millimeters before the woman spoke once more, "Why aren't you with him? I thought you were supposed to be with Gaara at all times? To make sure that Shukaku doesn't take control…" pausing once more, remembering just how quiet the mansion had been when they had entered—how she had not run into anyone downstairs and the only person Yashamaru had found was sitting right before him. "Where are Temari and Kankuro?"

"They're all fine—they're—" a sigh coming from chapped lips, Ami feeling her flu induced headache coming upon her once more. "Gaara had to leave to help plan the Chuunin exams. I've got the flu—so Temari and Kankuro went with him in my place." The sick woman letting silence take over for a few moments—not exactly happy about what she needed to speak about next. "As for Shukaku… he's gone. Gaara does not have him anymore—he lost him about ten years ago."

The silence that came into the room was sudden, heavy, and oppressive, Ami finding herself extremely tempted to avert her gaze after revealing her failure at what was essentially her only duty.

Still, green eyes looked forward into shocked teal and indigo orbs—a need, a desire, a want to own up to her actions now that she was older, now that ten years had passed. To fall into a guilty silence, to allow herself to wallow in self pity at her failures and shortcomings was something she would do as a child, hell—even a few years prior she would do just that.

Now though, now she was twenty six.

She was an adult, she had fought in a war, she had fought against more demons, literal demons than she could count.

Ami would hold herself accountable.

Speaking just forcefully enough to make sure she was not interrupted, but taking care not to sound too callous, the blonde woman began to think of where to start to explain all that had happened while the two were literally six feet under—before letting out one more soft sigh as she began, "Let me start, at the beginning please. It is a long story—so please, just stay with me."


	4. Betray

**Betray;**

**To hurt (someone who trusts you, such as a friend or relative) by not giving help or by doing something morally wrong.**

_This pregnancy was different._

_Just a few weeks in and Karura could already tell that something—something very important was wrong. Was the child sick? She'd only just found out that the treatment Lady Chiyo had given her to keep her healthy was actually Shukaku being put inside of the child within her womb._

_She had not spoken to Kogane since she found out—woman horrified that he would do such a thing without telling her, would do such a thing to his child—that he had been wanting and planning to do something to each of their children so far._

_Karura was not sure how she had not realized this was coming, after so long._

_Still—that was not what seemed so different._

_Whether it was her getting older—though, at thirty she was still young enough to have children, perhaps it was simply the fact there was a literal demon alongside the child within her womb, but the woman found herself feeling more and more sickly as time went on. _

_Ordinary tasks took longer, playing with Kankuro and Temari took tremendous amounts of energy, and as her pregnancy wore on she found herself going to bed earlier and earlier in the evening. _

_It was a bit concerning really, she was only four months along, barely showing—the prospect of this going on for five more months seemed near impossible. _

_Sitting on the edge of her bed—Kogane had been wise enough to sleep on the couch since she had found out—teal eyes stared into the mirror opposite, taking in the pale skin, taking in the dark circles, taking in how sickly she seemed despite the intense medical care she had been receiving. _

_Was she going to die?_

_It seemed strange to think, it really did—especially at her age, but with the way her health seemed to be inclining, along with the gut feeling in her stomach she found it hard to get the thought out of her head. _

_Biting down on her lower lip, finding herself afraid for the child within her—surely it would be strong, but she knew very well how jinchuuriki were treated in this world, and even the strongest child was still a child, and to face that alone would be a very daunting task for anyone, even an adult. _

_Lip bitten until she could taste the metallic tang of blood, Karura let out the lightest of sighs—remembering back to several years before. A conversation overheard and only remembered from how incredibly odd it had seemed. _

_One of the small villages in a little country on the border was home to a clan that specialized in demons, apparently. Something about heritage and bloodlines, she was not sure—but what she had heard that seemed the most interesting was that they not only captured and collected demons, they took care of those who housed them._

_From what it had sounded like, the clan tended to just care for the smaller demons, but perhaps if she contacted them they would make an exception for the child on the way? _

_It seemed strange, that she was more intent on relying on a stranger than her husband to take care of their child—but when it all came down it, Karura could not bring herself to trust the man anymore with their children's care. Perhaps he did truly think this course of actions had been for the best, but when it came down to it those actions had put their children in danger._

_Perhaps—with whoever the clan would send, along with her brother and her two older children, the child within her would be safe. _

_Really, as Karura thought about it—continuing to look into the mirror, that was all she wanted from all of this. Whether it took her dying, whether she lived through this pregnancy, no matter what happened._

_She just wanted her youngest child to be safe in the face of what was going to face them._

Karura could not help but stare, jaw dropped, as her youngest son's wife finished telling her story, not entirely sure how to react. The mother was not sure how she had expected her son's life to go— but to have Gaara turn into what sounded like a near psychopathic killer after her brother died, go through some sort of spiritual transformation after meeting the jinchuuriki from Konoha, become Kazekage only to have his demon extracted and then lead thousands to war—was not anything near what she could have thought.

A glance at her brother— wondering how to handle this information, and judging by the shocked look on his face he was not sure how to handle this information either.

Hand running through his amber hair, Yashamaru kept his indigo eyes trained on the younger woman in front of him—not understanding why she hadn't told Karura the fact that he had tried to kill Gaara. There was no way Ami did not know already—she would have been told, she would have heard somehow—was she keeping it a secret?

It was hard to tell.

Gut instinct was to be grateful but the distrust that was in Ami's eyes made him think that this was not exactly a favor he wanted or particularly deserved.

Indigo eyes darting to his sister, taking in the shocked, almost nauseated look on her face he placed his hand gently on her shoulder and gave her the slightest of smiles in hopes of comforting her, even if it was just a little bit.

His efforts, seemed a bit in vain though—as his sister shrugged off his hand and walked out of the room, muttering a soft 'I need to be alone.' before leaving her brother and daughter-in-law by themselves, the woman needing some space to think, some time to figure out how to deal with all of this information.

A pause, as Ami watched the woman walk out of the room—listening to her go down the stairs and making sure she was out of earshot before looking at the man in front of her, lips set in a grim line—eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she took in his posture, his expression, the way he was looking at her right now in what seemed like both slight confusion and annoyance.

Yashamaru taking a step forward towards the other, indigo eyes narrowing as he spoke, "Why didn't you tell her what I did?" he could not figure out how he felt about the other before him—it seemed obvious enough that she cared for Gaara a great deal, but as for motives for her behavior, as for understanding her and trusting her the man could not bring himself to do so quite yet. Perhaps it would change, he'd only known her for about an hour so far—but if he were to be honest his first impression of this woman was not a good one.

"I'm not sure the best way to tell someone that their brother tried to kill their son, but I am fairly sure hearing it from a stranger is not the best way." A pause, realizing just how harsh those words made her seem judging by the shocked look on the man's face , Ami let out a deep breath—relaxing a bit before speaking once more, "I know that sounds rude, but she shouldn't hear that from me. And to be honest, no one really talks about what happened when he was a kid, so if you don't tell her she probably won't find out—but she shouldn't have to hear it from a stranger. She really shouldn't."

Teeth gritted, jaw clenched, body tense, Yashamaru was not certain how to react at the woman's frankness and candor—while the fact that she had not sugar-coated things was appreciated, she was still a stranger, and the fact that she knew so much about what he had done, and the effects he had on his nephew was unsettling.

Still, looking at the other he was almost certain she meant well enough, even if she was acting in such a way. A nod, from the blond man, swallowing thickly. "I'll tell her later." Not sure when later was—but after all the news they'd received today he was fairly sure that his sister needed a rest and time to process things. A glance back at the other, Yashamaru's lips pursed into a thin line for a few moments as he took in her sickly appearance, "You should rest. You've got the flu."

Indigo eyes watching the woman nod, Yashamaru walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him—stopping in the hallway and leaning against the wall, finding the prospect of telling his sister what he had done not nearly as daunting as seeing his youngest nephew again.

He really hadn't wanted to hurt Gaara.

He wasn't sure how much the other would understand, though.

**Hello everyone! It's come to my attention that some of you haven't realized that this story is a sequel! The story before this is called The Kazekage's Keeper, and if you just click on my profile you can find it! It explains a lot of things that will be referenced in this, and I assure you that reading it will make this much easier to understand!**


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